Remember Our Future
by jaqtkd
Summary: Merlin decides to cast a spell on Morgana but, inevitably, it does not go to plan. Written to celebrate 400 followers on Tumblr and inspired by the prompts I was given. Set after 4x11 and set to go AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **Written to celebrate 400 followers on Tumblr. I had rather too many different requests to include them all in one fic but, in the end, I went for the most popular; Mergana, of course. Fairly inevitably the planned one-shot quickly became a two-shot._

Takes place after 4x11 and will go AU after that. Yes, that's right. For once I'm not going to be a slave to canon. I hope this makes you happy. :D

* * *

**Remember Our Future**

Merlin had had enough.

His attempts to warn Arthur about Agravaine had failed, as had various attempts to beat or subdue Morgana. And so, asking for a week off in order to visit his mother, the young warlock headed towards Morgana's hovel, determined to deal with this threat once and for all.

He didn't expect his mission to take long, but only asking for a couple of days wouldn't have made sense if he were to journey all the way to Ealdor and back. And so, with far more confidence than he'd felt for a very long time, Merlin headed towards the small, partially concealed cottage, not bothering to change into Dragoon, with the words of the spell already on his lips.

Why this particular enchantment? Why not one that would kill her? He could not answer that. _Dared_ not answer that. All he knew was that, right now, this seemed like the perfect solution to all his problems. A spell that would ensure that she remained alive whilst simultaneously making certain that she would have no desire to harm Arthur or him, ever again.

Yes, he decided, ignoring the little voice of doubt in the back of his mind - sounding worrying like Gaius - this was the perfect spell.

Merlin kicked open the door of the hovel and stormed in, his eyes burning with determination. Morgana looked up from the book she was reading; shocked and surprised, but soon recovered, quickly standing and throwing a spell his way with a mere flash of her eyes. Quite unconcerned about revealing his magic to her, Merlin quickly blocked her attack and threw his own spell straight back at her.

She ducked, falling behind her desk with a clunk.

"Merlin?"

Her voice sounded as sceptical as it did shocked. It would be even more helpful if she didn't believe it was truly him in the first place – if she thought this was some sort of illusion or doppelgänger. So he said nothing as her heard reappeared and he threw the spell at her for the second time. Something reflective caught his eye and he attempted to duck, simultaneously casting the spell again, just to be quite certain it had hit its target.

Then everything went black.

~o~0~o~

It felt like awakening from a dream. Slowly the room came into focus and Merlin shook his head, trying to work out where he was and what had just happened.

He was standing over a cooking pot, apparently in the act of serving himself some stew. Such an ordinary, everyday action and yet he was immediately on his guard, sensing something was very wrong. He was mostly dressed, he noticed, except for missing shoes, neckerchief and jacket. The basic hut he was in felt worryingly familiar and he turned around very slowly and nervously, trying desperately to remember something.

Why was he here and, more importantly, where was Morgana?

"What going on?" His rhetorical question was the quietest of whispers, despite his shock. The hovel was neat and seemed far more welcoming than it had the last time he was here. A fire was burning merrily in the hearth and there, curled up under the covers of the bed, was Morgana.

"What is it, Merlin?" she asked sleepily. "Come back to bed. I'm cold."

"What...?" He just stood there, staring at her dumbly for a moment before attempting to find his voice. "Yeah, just … putting more wood on the fire."

"That's a good idea," she mumbled.

Merlin tried desperately to find his memories but nothing came. He couldn't even recall why he'd come here or _when_ he'd come here. He remembered being here once before – tied to a beam when Morgana had captured him - but, that wasn't now. His shoulders felt a little sore, as did a few other parts of his body, but nothing like the horrible pain he'd suffered when he'd been a prisoner here before.

A hint of more recent memory returned; him kicking open the door – hand raised ready to cast a spell but, nothing else. He shook his head, fear continuing to bubble up inside him until it turned to panic and he hurried to put on his boots and jacket, searching desperately for his neckerchief.

Unable to find it nearby, he backed slowly out of the door of the hovel and soon discovered his horse calmly tied up outside tucking into food that had obviously been recently left. With another fearful glance back at the hut, Merlin quickly mounted the horse and rode home to Camelot as fast as he could.

~o~0~o~

A knock on the door caused Morgana to suddenly sit up in bed with a start, surprised to find herself naked. What was she thinking? She always slept fully clothed in order to be instantly ready for any emergency that might come her way. She threw a quick spell at the closed door, ensuring it was fully barred before calling out.

"W-who is it?"

"Agravaine. My lady, are you well?"

She scrambled out of bed and searched for her clothes – confused to find them hanging neatly up on the other side of the hovel. It made absolutely no sense.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she opened the door to Arthur's uncle. Something was very wrong. She felt very odd and could not remember how she had ended up like this. Couldn't remember anything that had happened recently at all.

There was a long pause. "It is Tuesday evening, Morgana. I always come to visit at this time."

"Tuesday?" That wasn't right. Surely Agravaine had only just left a couple of days ago.

She opened the door and tried to maintain her usual casual demeanour around the man, although she was fairly confident it wasn't working.

"What is it, Morgana? What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure … I think… I think Merlin was here."

"Ah, I believe you're still suffering from the effects of that fall after Emrys attacked you," Agravaine said, genuine concern evident in his voice. "Merlin was indeed here at that time – you imprisoned him – put a creature in his neck to subdue him."

"Yes." She frowned, desperately trying to remember something. "But that … that was some time ago."

"It was, yes. Anyway, Merlin's just recently left to visit family. He is due back at Camelot soon, in fact."

"Then you should be certain you're there when he returns," she retorted, a hint of the usual fire returning to her voice. "That boy is not to be trusted."

"On that we agree then but, never fear, despite Arthur's affection for his servant he will still not believe him over his devoted uncle."

"No, Arthur always did value family first and foremost." Morgana made her way back to her bed, still feeling strange. She would think she was ill except that she couldn't remember when she'd last felt quite so relaxed and healthy, despite suffering from a few strange, unfamiliar aches.

"So, do you have any further instructions for me, my lady?" Agravaine asked.

"No, not today. Come again next week – unless something urgent occurs at Camelot in the meantime."

Agravaine paused, apparently not happy about being dismissed quite so quickly. "Are you sure, Morgana? Perhaps I could..."

"Go, Agravaine. Do I really need to tell you a third time?"

"No, no, of course not." With no further excuse, Agravaine left and she couldn't help but heave a huge sigh of relief once he'd gone.

Despite having apparently slept for most of the day, Morgana still felt surprisingly tired. Sitting back on her bed, she spied a piece of cloth lying on the pillow and froze, a sudden panic hitting her as she recognised it. He _had_ been here. Now there was no doubt.

What was Merlin's neckerchief doing in her bed?

~o~0~o~

Her dreams were strange and erotic. Strong, calloused hands gently stroked her body, whilst soft, plump lips kissed her neck and her lips - warm air caressing her skin.

She had never experienced sensations like this before, awake or asleep. Even magic didn't feel as good as this did. Her own hands clung desperately to warm shoulders - nails clawing at skin - before moving up to slide through short, thick hair. The kisses became deeper and more desperate as his hands moved lower; caressing her breasts, then her stomach, before moving confidently between her legs.

"Yes… please..." She encouraged him, opening her legs wider, pushing his head lower so he could suckle at her breast.

The room was dark and so she could see nothing, but that was hardly necessary, they already knew each other intimately. He pushed roughly into her then and she cried out – more with delight than pain. Morgana had never experienced this in real life but here, in this dream, she knew it wasn't her first time – that he'd been here for a number days already and that this was just the way her life had been recently - a sudden freedom after the recent fear and uncertainty.

During the last few days and nights they had made love numerous times; on the bed, on the floor, up against the wall. So much desperate desire and passion. So much… dare she say it... love?

She would not attempt to remember his face or his name. She would not dare. She could not accept that she would ever do such things with someone she so despised. And yet, in her dreams, she felt nothing but love and desire for the man. Nothing but gratitude for all the good things he'd done for her recently and for how he'd saved her.

Saved her? That certainly made no sense.

Morgana woke up, hot and out of breath, her own hands now between her legs as she realised with certain clarity that what she was recalling had not been a dream. She now understood what that strange pain was that she had been experiencing since Agravaine had knocked on her door yesterday. Someone had made love to her in this hovel and they had both been entirely willing.

Why could she not remember exactly what had happened?

~o~0~o~

* * *

_**Part Two** is mostly written so, it shouldn't be too long._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Gaius returned to his chambers to find Merlin lost in thought, staring out at space with his magic book lying open on the table.

"Honestly, I've told you before, read that in your room, not out here," the old man scolded. "You don't know who might come in and see it."

"Yes, I know, sorry, but I really needed to cross reference it with something," Merlin replied, pointing at one of Gaius' books lying near by.

"What exactly are you looking for?"

"Memory spells." Merlin shook his head. "Or, perhaps I should say, spells that take away memories."

"Those enchantments are notoriously tricky," Gaius warned. "I really don't think you should be meddling with them."

"Yes, I know … I understand but … I think perhaps I did or... one was used against me?"

"Merlin?"

The young man sighed. "I've lost about a week of my memory."

Gaius sat down in front of him, suddenly concerned. "What is the last thing your remember?"

"Mithian visiting. Agravaine and the siege tunnel plans. Sending Gwen to Ealdor."

"Not _you_ going to Ealdor?" Gaius asked.

"No, I didn't go there," Merlin replied with a frown.

"Yes, you did. You arranged a holiday with Arthur and told us all that you'd be gone for a week."

"A week? That must be my missing week then but Ealdor is not where I was when I woke up, I was..." He winced.

"Where?"

"In the opposite direction." The young man shook his head. "Do you have any idea how I can get my memories back?"

~o~0~o~

Merlin's memory slowly started to return and it wasn't long before he remembered that had some specific plan in mind for Morgana when he'd gone to visit her and had used Ealdor as an excuse for Arthur and Gaius but, apart from confirming that he had deliberately sought her out, he still could not remember what his plan had been nor what had happened when he'd got there.

Night time gave him a few more clues, although the things he saw then didn't make him feel any better. The dreams he had were worryingly erotic and involved him and Morgana in a number of very sexual and intimate situations. Merlin woke up several times over the next weeks and months, hot, sweating and very turned on. He would have dismissed the dreams as some odd, desperate figment of his imagination if it weren't for the very genuine memory of being in Morgana's hovel and her telling him to come back to bed.

He tried desperately to deny what he was starting to recall but, as the 'dreams' became even more vivid, Merlin had to accept the fact that they were, in fact, his true memories starting to return. There was no way he would have the imagination to conjure such things up for himself for a start and, as the weeks stretched into months, he began to recall certain incidents even more clearly. Began to understand that they had actually happened to him, rather than just imagining it as if it were a dream.

Why though? Why would he and Morgana spend so much time willingly making love to one another? And it hadn't been random acts of passion between them either. Merlin now had clear memories of long, lazy evenings sitting around the fire with her whilst talking calmly about the past; of Uther and Camelot and how happy Morgana was now she away from there. Genuine memories of friendship and – dare he say it - love?

What was he missing?

~o~0~o~

**After Series Four**

The attack on Camelot was a nice distraction for Morgana even if she did end up loosing it all yet again. She also lost her magic for a period of time – thanks to Emrys - and very nearly her life, courtesy of a stray sword wound. Befriending a small, white dragon was a blessing to her in the weeks that followed but all of those distractions meant that took her much longer than it should for her to realise what the result of that strange, missing week was likely to be.

She was with child.

As time had gone by her memories had started to return but they were still very sketchy and didn't fully make sense to her. It seemed that she had believed herself to be in the past. Thought it was the time shortly after she had discovered her magic and had escaped Camelot to find the Druids. However, instead of being forced to go back to Camelot, in this version of events, she had apparently stayed with them for a little while - learning their ways and customs - before moving into a small cottage in a nearby, mystical valley.

Some time after that Merlin had started visiting her and it was here that their relationship developed further, neither concerned about their status now that Morgana was a willing outcast.

She had no idea why she thought that this was the truth, but it would certainly explain why she had felt grateful towards Merlin. Back then he had helped her out, no matter how much she had wanted to deny that fact in later years. With no memories of the poisoning or of his numerous other betrayals, she had no reason to hate him, and so she had given herself to him body and soul until reality had finally returned.

However, that false memory of her time with the druids had now also presented her with a solution to her current dilemma. Cradling her swollen stomach with one arm, Morgana looked around the little hut that had been her home for so long and set off towards their last known location, unsure of the reception she would receive, but hoping that her current condition would make them look favourably on her and take her in.

~o~0~o~

Merlin remembered it all now. He had gone to the hovel with the intention of wiping Morgana's memory of the last four years. Choosing the time when she'd left to seek out the druids as the crucial point, adding a certain amount of logic to the situation, and also adding some false memories, making her believe she had stayed with them instead of returning to Camelot.

He now also recalled that she'd attempted to reflect the spell back at him too, the result of which had cause them both to be affected; albeit for only one week.

So, after the spell had hit them they both believed that this was some time after Uther's hunt for her and the Druids and, after that realisation, the pair had started to talk properly for the first time; Morgana sharing her real fear of her magic and Merlin willingly giving her his full support, causing them to grow closer.

Very close. He smiled at those memories now, knowing that they had both fallen in love during that time and hoping that something of that experience would have got through to her, even after her failed attack on Camelot.

Merlin had heard from Aithusa soon after that event and knew that Morgana had survived the sword wound and was now safe. The little dragon refused to give him her location however, and Merlin did not have the heart to force her. Eventually she acquiesced and, thanks to the last few years of peace, the warlock was finally able to find some time to pack his bags and head off to the Druid camp where she was now living; both nervous and excited about the reception he may receive from her.

He didn't know for certain whether she would recall that he was the one who had used magic or even if he'd told her about his ability during that missing week, but he was now here to make things right between them and to ask for her forgiveness if it was required.

And maybe, just maybe, those memories of their shared love and her recent time spent with the Druids would have been enough to bring her some sort of peace.

"Hello. What do you want?"

His path to the camp was barred by a small, wild eyed child, with a red kerchief carelessly tied over her dark, tangled hair. She looked well fed and healthy enough, but a dirty face and bare feet gave the hint of someone rather more wild and feral.

"I've come to see Iseldir and... Morgana," Merlin replied, searching the surprisingly wise face for more clues of what he was to expect.

"Yes, they know that you're coming," the little girl said, turning to walk back the way she came without acknowledging him any further.

"What's your name?" he asked as he started to follow his small guide.

"Munin."

He stopped, surprised at the name. "Memory?"

The little girl turned around and smiled, green eyes shining brightly as she pushed her hair back over ears that were a little more prominent than usual. Merlin caught his breath as he realised what it was she was wearing on her head.

His lost neckerchief.

"Hello, Merlin," Morgana's calm voice called out from one side. "I see you've already met your daughter."

~o~0~o~

* * *

_**A/N:** So, the prompt I used for this was the request for a pregnant Morgana - specifically using a lovely manip recently created on The Heart of Camelot. I shall link you to that on my PP._


End file.
